


All I Ever Wanted

by mercurialMalcontent



Category: Star Stealing Prince
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Mixed Signals, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurialMalcontent/pseuds/mercurialMalcontent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have a dim, hazy memory of a body behind you, strong, shadowy arms around you, a voice in your ear. You imagine it now; a taller, heavier frame curved around you, the big spoon to your small. An arm around your chest, hand cupped over your heart. A voice murmuring behind you, breath stirring the fine hairs on the back of your neck as it murmurs, "Goodnight, <i>my</i> little prince."</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Spoilers for Star Stealing Prince and up through Ephemeral Prince: Fleeting Act 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Ever Wanted

The longer you spend around Xiri, the less you can bring yourself to consider enacting your plan.

You feel ridiculous about it, at first. You feel warm and safe around him -- around Xiri, of all people! -- but that can't be all there is to it. Feeling warm and safe are important, and God knows you haven't felt much of either for a long time, but there's something else to it, something deeper. It's something that only clicks when you're in his presence, that leads you to spend more time with him every day.

When you're with Xiri, you feel at home, but more than that, you feel _whole_.

You realize this late at night, when Iain is walking you back from Xiri's rooms. It hits all at once, like a bell tolling around you, and you're so shocked you trip and nearly fall down a flight of stairs. Iain catches you, asks you what's wrong, but you can only shake your head and stammer that you're just very tired.

And you are tired, bone tired, but sleep won't come and allow you to escape your attempts to explain away the hollow sensation that's crept up on you as you lie there alone. Maybe Xiri took away some essential part of you when he was freed -- but you never felt whole while he was within you and surpressed. You'd still had a piece missing, then, despite a warm bed and enough food and dark, dreamless sleep. You didn't feel whole in the White Cloud temple, and not just because of your dead ( _because of you, because of **you**_ ) kingdom.

You think you'd felt that wholeness a long time ago. You have a dim, hazy memory of a body behind you, strong, shadowy arms around you, a voice in your ear. You imagine it now; a taller, heavier frame curved around you, the big spoon to your small. An arm around your chest, hand cupped over your heart. A voice murmuring behind you, breath stirring the fine hairs on the back of your neck as it murmurs, "Goodnight, _my_ little prince."

You want it so badly, you feel sick.

But you can't bring yourself to say anything to Xiri the next day, even though you're fumbling even the most basic of spells in your exhaustion, even though he asks you what's wrong in tones so concerned that you almost dissolve into tears. It doesn't even slip from you by accident, even though your guard is almost nonexistent in your exhaustion.

You leave Xiri early that evening, and tell yourself that ache you feel is relief.

Alone and cold in your bed again that night, you can't stop thinking about him. How he smiles at you like he never threatened to hurt you, how he calls you his little prince so sweetly, how he gives you all manner of little touches so unabashedly, like it were perfectly natural, like he doesn't need permission. How he treats you like you're _his_ , and he's thankful for every moment of it.

You should hate it, but you can't, and when sleep finally finds you, you're imagining Xiri curled around you.

-

The next day, Xiri expresses relief that you look a little better rested. You give him a weak smile in response and try not to let anything show on your face that would hint at the truth of the matter. It doesn't matter how you got to sleep; all that matters is your plan, and you finding a way to follow through with it.

But you can't focus on betrayal when Xiri begins teaching you yet another new spell. He's happy as a child with a new toy as he leads you through the motions of it. How long has it been since he's been this happy? Since before he was in your head -- since before he was in the Original King's? How can you take that away from him?

In your distress you fumble the spell so badly a jet of flame spurts from the floor and nearly sets a drapery on fire. Xiri blurts a laugh and puts it out with a gesture, before peering at you in amused concern. "Snowe, where is your head? You're so distracted today."

You open your mouth, close it, shake your head. "I-I just have a hard time making that motion. Th-that's all." It's a pathetic excuse, and false besides, but you can hardly tell him the truth.

Xiri narrows his eyes thoughtfully, then grins. "I know. Sit on the floor."

"Wh-what? Why?"

"Go on, do it. Take a pillow to sit on."

You slide gingerly from your chair, decorative pillow in hand, and arrange yourself as comfortably as you can. Too late, you notice Xiri has left his chair. You stiffen as he fits himself behind you.

"Now like this -- spread your arms." Xiri's arms fit up against yours, his hands cupped around yours, and your breath catches. "Relax and follow my movements." He feels so much bigger than you, like this, and he's so warm, so _close_ , just like your hazy memory.

You fight the urge to sink back against him, but it's no use; you can't concentrate for the closeness of him no matter how hard you try. He notices your stiffness and stills your arms. "Is something bothering you, my prince?"

You swallow hard. "N-no, it's just..." This feels too good, too right, too much like something you've always wanted and can't bear to part with. "This feels so f-familiar. Like a memory."

Xiri laughs, delighted. "You remember it!" He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, into a real embrace. "This is how I taught you magic."

Your heart pounds. _It was a_ real _memory?_ "Y-you did? H-how?" _Why?_ "You w-were in my h-head."

"Yes, oh yes." Xiri makes a happy sound, and the hand that still holds yours squeezes. "I could make my shadow manifest. You were so little, and so _lonely_. So I tried to make friends." He chuckles. "It took an entire year for you to come around."

You sink back against Xiri, dazed, your head aching from the tumble of tattered memories swirling within. Xiri strokes your hand with his thumb as he continues, "We played for hours together, every day. Then I found out that _they_ wouldn't teach you anything about what you could do, so I had to. I couldn't let them stunt you."

Your breath is coming in shuddery little gasps, you're overwhelmed by-- by his words, you're sure it's just his words, nothing to do with how he's holding you and how his voice is a sweet, low rumble, and certainly nothing to do with the ache inside you. It's just his words, your memories, how-- "You hated me," you blurt. "Why did y-you teach me anything? When you could talk to me again, y-you hated me."

Xiri stills for just long enough for you to regret your slip, then breathes a sigh into your hair. "Not then, I didn't. It wasn't until your mother took you from me and locked me away... I was in pain and alone for years, my prince. I went half-mad." He squeezes you and whispers, "I'm sorry."

You shut your eyes and squeeze his hand. "I-I believe you." You really do. God help you both.

Xiri holds you in silence, and you let him -- let, as if you hadn't rested your head on his shoulder, as if you'd made even the slightest move to get away -- until you wonder what would happen if Canan came in to check in on you. What if she came in and saw you and Xiri twined together like-- 

You won't let yourself finish the thought. You push away from Xiri, pleading a headache and needing to lie down in a dark room. He lets you go reluctantly, his fingers trailing down your arms as you stand, and wishes you a good rest.

In the cold darkness of your room, you fight down feelings of resentment toward your dead parents and what might have been. No. You won't let yourself remember, you won't let yourself imagine, you won't let yourself think of him.

You sleep very poorly indeed.

-

Days pass. You keep halfheartedly looking for ways to get under Xiri's guard, and not following up on any of them. Late at night, when you're alone and can't sleep, you ask yourself if you're really trying to get under his guard, or if you're looking for excuses to be close to him. The only answers you can come up with lead you in more circles.

Somehow, though, you keep yourself from doing anything that draws Xiri's attention back to your deteriorating state. It helps that a few of those days you scarcely see him, as he's busy with scout reports; for all you miss him (and oh, that's a strange and terrible sensation), not having to cast spells or keep up an emotional front doesn't sap your energy so much, and you're able to recover a bit.

You can't fool Xiri forever, though. This evening he's trying to teach you another spell -- one you'd agreed to because it seemed simple enough. How difficult could small decorative stars formed from fire be, anyway?

As it turns out, in the state you're in they're completely impossible. Between your exhaustion and your emotions your concentration is in an utter shambles, and the little stars either fizzle or explode, with no happy medium. You ineptitude doesn't make Xiri upset or annoyed, however; he just frowns at you in concern and waves the fire away.

"We can try it again in a little bit, don't worry. Sometimes it's hard to get right. You haven't been sleeping well, have you? I think that's why it's difficult right now."

You sink back onto the couch and try not to wince. "Is it that obvious?"

"And you haven't been eating." Xiri sits next to you and examines your wrist, so thin it's mostly knob. "I know that a piece of me keeps you alive, for the most part, but it isn't going to do you any good if you starve yourself."

You pull your arm away and fuss with your sleeve as you search for words. Finally, you sigh and manage, "I haven't felt well lately."

Xiri's brows furrow upward as he looks at you in a way that makes your heart ache. "Did you want to sleep in here?" he asks, after a moment. "I wouldn't mind at all if you wanted to. If it's a nightmare keeping you from sleep, I can will that away in one night. And it's warm in here. No need for all those blankets."

Your breath catches. "I-It's not that," you blurt. No, it's not nightmares at all, is it -- it's your guilt over your plans, it's how very much you want to say yes. You find yourself teetering between the two, aching with a want that frightens you almost more than betrayal does--

You shut your eyes. "I-I mean, it's not nightmares. It's j-just..." You swallow past the sudden lump in your throat. "I g-guess I have trouble sleeping when I'm a-alone," you whisper.

Xiri is silent, but the back of his hand brushes yours. You take a deep breath; for all you know what you want to say, it's so, so hard to say it. "S-so maybe I should sleep in here. W-with you." No, no, you shouldn't have said that last part, you may as well have blurted out everything you can scarcely even _think_ \-- You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut.

After a moment, he takes your hand and squeezes it. "Of course, my prince."

-

Iain is standing guard this evening, and you have to tell him that you won't be returning to your own rooms tonight. He tries to joke at first, to reassure you, but he takes in your exhaustion and how badly you shiver, and the words die on his lips. He makes up his mind without any more explanation needed on your part, and after a pat to your shoulder, he sends you back with reassurances that he'll be fine, he'll get Canan or Rhea to help wait in shifts.

The guilt that gnaws at you is more than matched by your ache of anticipation.

When you return, Xiri isn't in the sitting room, but you hear sounds of him bustling about in the bedchamber. After locking the door behind you, you peer into the bedchamber to find Xiri briskly tidying the books from his seldom-used bed. You have to swallow hard before you can manage, "Y-you don't have to do that. I c-can sleep on the s-sofa."

"It wouldn't be comfortable," Xiri says lightly as he sets a small stack of books atop a much larger stack. It starts to teeter and he pushes it against the wall. "And more importantly, we wouldn't both fit."

You must have made some sound, because Xiri turns his attention toward you. He smiles a little. "I can't help you sleep unless I can touch you." His smile grows into an all-out grin as he stands and moves toward you. "I'm so glad I can touch you again."

You're beginning to feel a little _too_ warm, a sensation so unusual you're distracted by marveling at it. Xiri has you gathered close practically before you realize he's got his arms around you. "Are you glad, Snowe?"

_He's so close now that I could carry out my plan before he even suspects. _The thin, despairing thought dissolves under the warmth you feel as you lean into him. "Yes," you whisper. A shudder goes through you at how much you mean it. "Yes."__

__Xiri nuzzles you. "But you're standing there like a doll. Why don't you touch me back?"_ _

__"I-I." Oh God, you can hardly breathe. "I'm not really u-used to t-touching people." You hide your face against his shoulder. "D-did I used to?"_ _

__"A bit. Like a child does." Xiri guides you into the room and sits you both down on the bed. "It took you a while to get used to it then, too." He pulls you close again._ _

__You take a shuddery breath as you fit yourself against him. "B-but I'm not a child anymore."_ _

__Xiri traces the edge of your ear. "No. You're not." His fingers brush down your neck. "Are you sleepy, my prince?"_ _

__You're exhausted, but you couldn't sleep right now if your life depended on it. "Not yet," you whisper, and run hesitant fingers along Xiri's jaw._ _

__His breath catches, then he leans in and gives a lingering kiss to your temple. Your fingers are feather-light with uncertainty as you run them up the taper of his ear, then begin to tremble as he gives a still more lingering kiss to your cheek. You trace along the fine arch of Xiri's brow, the slope of his nose, the curve of his cheek; he presses kisses to your ear, your other cheek, your jaw. You brush your thumb against his lips and he kisses that, too._ _

__"Snowe," he breathes as he nuzzles your cheek. Your heart pounds as you return it, then brush your lips along his jaw, the corner of his mouth, his lips._ _

__Xiri shudders and holds you tighter, as if he's afraid you'll vanish if he doesn't. However, his lips are gentle on yours as you exchange little not-kisses that could almost be chaste -- until you part your lips. The invitation is more than enough for him; he sinks into you as if he were coming home._ _

__You groan with the newness of the sensation of someone's mouth on your own, with the familiarity of who it is, and cling to him in return. You run your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his chest as you clumsily return the flicks and thrusts of his tongue, learning him, like he _knows_ you. You learn how the sharp points of his teeth contrast with the soft wetness of his mouth, and how to bring soft, unguarded noises from him. You learn that he nips when you draw away too soon for his liking, and that you like it when he soothes you stinging lower lip with a gentle suck._ _

__When Xiri breaks the kiss, you're both breathing fast, your chests rising and falling together. "A-are you sleepy now, my prince?" he breathes._ _

__"N-not even a l-little," you gasp._ _

__He cups your face and looks it over, a slow, delighted smile spreading across his own as he does so. "I have missed you so," he says as he trails his fingers down your neck and tugs at the fastenings of your shirt._ _

__You flush so hot that for an instant you wonder if you've set yourself aflame by accident. But no, you're just -- confusedashamedembarrassedaching, wondering for a brief brittle instant what it would have been like if he hadn't been locked away, if he'd be hungry for you in the same way, if you'd be hungry for him like you are now._ _

__Xiri presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat and you tremble._ _

__You run your shaky fingers through his hair as he undresses you bit by bit. He touches you shamelessly, kisses every bit of newly exposed skin as it's revealed, every mark and bump and jut of bone, like he's claiming them and cherishing them all at once. Even your burn scars he kisses reverently, looking up at you with apology in his eyes as he does so._ _

__You can barely stand any of this -- being wanted like this, _wanting_ like this. And God, you want; being touched isn't enough, you need to touch, to claim. You scrabble at the fastenings of Xiri's shirt and he slows you down with a kiss, and for just long enough for him to finish the job by magic. Your hands wander over him, hesitant and greedy by turns as you revel and envy at how much more solid he is than you; you're afraid of how much you want this, but you can't stop. He breathes a delighted laugh into your neck, presses into your touch, and you don't _want_ to stop._ _

__You both struggle out of shoes and trousers and underthings, petting and kissing as you go. You hesitate when it comes to your own underthings; he nuzzles your neck and chuckles. "Shy? I did live in your head, you know."_ _

__"B-but I d-didn't l-live in y-yours," you retort, hiding your face against his hair._ _

__"Oh, is that it?" Xiri strokes your cock through the fabric and laughs at the sound you make. "Does it matter?"_ _

__You want to say that it does, but he pushes your underthings down and strokes your cock in exactly the sort of languid way you like (like you used to do to yourself, back when you could stand to touch yourself like that), and you can only strangle a moan. How much did he see when he was locked inside of you, how much did he feel? How much could he use against you? But the little grin he wears as you gasp at his fondling isn't sly, it's almost sweet. You know you shouldn't like that he knows how to touch you like this, but you do._ _

__You try to touch Xiri like he's touching you, but you can only cling and moan his name into his ear. He shudders and releases you, pushes you to the bed, pins you there with his hands and his hips and his cock, looks at you like he can see everything inside you, right down to your very soul. "My prince," he murmurs against your lips._ _

__Before you can stop yourself, you whisper in return, "My demon."_ _

__Xiri makes a small, overwhelmed sound and all at once he's rutting against you and gasping harsh breaths into your neck. You groan and try to match him, you suck and kiss his neck between frantic breaths. He's yours, he's _yours_ , as much as you're his, and you never want this to end, you never want to let him go--_ _

__Your world is Xiri, his gasped cries, his heat, and it swallows your for a few infinite moments of bliss._ _

__You come back to you both shuddering with the aftermath. Someone's gasping soft, vulnerable sounds; after a moment, you realize it's you, and you hide your face against Xiri's neck._ _

___What have I done?_ you ask yourself as Xiri kisses your ear, strokes your cheek, withdraws to clean you both up. You weren't supposed to get attached. You weren't supposed to remember. You weren't supposed to want._ _

__You try to will the wanting gone. You curl in on yourself and try to remember the faces of everyone you've lost ( _you killed_ ), but Xiri pulls the blanket up and wraps around you, and all those faces, all that pain slips away. You melt back into him, like you belong nowhere else, and he hugs you close. "Are you sleepy now, my prince?" he asks, cupping his hand over your heart._ _

__You're on the edge of an abyss, the duty that kept you clinging to the edge dissolving under your grip. "Yes, my demon," you murmur, and lace your fingers with his._ _

__Xiri makes that little overwhelmed sound again. "Goodnight, Snowe," he whispers, his lips brushing the back of your neck. You drift off, hoping that you never wake up from this._ _


End file.
